


Don't Say Anything

by kadharonon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: A Wild Plot Appears, Angst, F/M, Porn with Feelings, Two people have sex instead of having a conversation, and then, hurt/comfort/hurt again, you know like you do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2019-11-12 02:45:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadharonon/pseuds/kadharonon
Summary: Gabriel gives up... and then gives in to his attraction to his personal assistant.And then he finds his way again, and doesn't know what to do.This started as a smutty one-shot and turned into a real fic with plot and feelings and everything, help, how did this happen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during Queen Wasp.

It had finally dawned on Gabriel, just how easily his son could fall victim to one of Hawk Moth’s akumatized victims. He'd thought Adrien safe where he was, surrounded by people Gabriel had hired, in a fashion show… and then he had made the mistake of akumatizing a fashion critic.

He hadn't realized it was a mistake until it was too late, until his son’s body was laid out in display on the Eiffel Tower, slowly turning to dust in the wind. He had done his best to protect Adrien, but it hadn't been enough.

Adrien had survived. For once, Gabriel was almost glad that Ladybug had defeated him. He didn't know if he could have brought his son back by himself.

But what hadn't survived the encounter was Gabriel’s burning certainty that he was on the right path.

He didn't know if Emilie could hear him, but he apologized all the same. He knew… well, he hoped she would understand.

Gabriel made it to his office somehow, fell back into one of the chairs, and for just a little while, let himself feel the full impact of it, the knowledge that he would never see Emilie smile again, that he would never hold her in his arms again, that she would never—

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders, a soft cheek came to rest against his temple, breaking his train of thought, soothing his troubled mind.

It wasn't her. It couldn't be her, of course not. But Gabriel let himself relax into these arms as if they were Emilie’s, despite the fact that it was Nathalie’s perfume he smelled. He let himself take comfort… and then he let himself take more.

He turned his head towards hers, not opening his eyes as he nuzzled her gently, feeling the warm, surprised breath she let out against his cheek.

“Sir,” Nathalie said, her usually steady voice sounding a little off-kilter.

“If you aren't saying no, don't say anything,” he begged her.

He heard her jaw snap shut, heard her swallow hard. And then, she relaxed again, and he felt the heat of her mouth, hovering near his, waiting.

Gabriel closed that fraction of an inch in an instant, and she let out a muffled little moan against his mouth as he kissed her.

God. It had been years. It had been too long.

Never mind the fact that the woman he was kissing was his personal assistant, not his wife. All his body cared about right now was the fact that her mouth was on his and her arms were around him and she was willing, so very willing.

He felt her hand travel down his arm, felt her pluck his glasses out of his hand. She stood, pulling away from him, and he wanted to protest, to demand she return to him that instant. But her mouth’s sudden absence from his was as much a no as the word spoken could have been, so Gabriel resigned himself to the fact that he had pushed too far, had no doubt upset the careful balance that existed between them, where Nathalie pretended her devotion had everything to do with doing her job well, and Gabriel…

Well, Gabriel pretended that he didn't find his personal assistant devastatingly attractive, despite feeling guilty for feeling such an attraction to a woman who was not the wife he was trying to overturn the natural order of things to recover.

He sighed and opened his eyes, only to find that Nathalie had removed her glasses as well and was standing in front of him. As he watched, she loosed the buttons on her suit jacket and then shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor, kicked her heels off to one side. And then, she was leaning forward, sliding herself into the chair with him, straddling his lap.

“Nathalie.” Gabriel couldn't tell if her name sounded like a protest or a welcome on his lips.

“If you aren't saying no, don't say anything,” Nathalie said, echoing his earlier words.

Gabriel seized her hips and pulled her hard against him. Her own hands were busy on him, sliding his tie off, unbuttoning his vest, the shirt underneath. Her mouth was just as busy as her hands were, and he matched her kiss for kiss.

There was a brief awkward struggle as she attempted to slide all the unbuttoned garments on his upper body off at once at the same time as he had decided to see if she would let him take that horrible turtleneck sweater off. She froze, and laughed, and sat back in his lap so she could whip the sweater over her head herself.

It wasn't as good as doing it himself would have been, as it would have been to feel her skin under his, inch by delicious inch, but it gave him the chance to toss aside coat and vest and shirt, so that when Nathalie leaned forward to kiss him again, wearing nothing on her upper half but a particularly plain and utilitarian bra, they were skin to skin in a way he had always shied away from imagining.

Gabriel placed a stilling hand on her cheek before he could get lost in kissing her again, slid the other hand—which had come to rest almost naturally on her hip after he'd gotten rid of the clothing on his upper half—around to the button of her trousers, asking permission with his gaze.

Nathalie's eyes widened for a moment, then she was out of his lap like a shot, and just as quickly her trousers were off and had been kicked to one side, joining the rest of her clothing. She paused with her hands on the waistband of her underpants, shooting him a questioning look.

He nodded, even as he was frantically shoving his shoes off and getting rid of the rest of his own clothing, in such a rush to do it quickly that he didn't notice her removing her bra as well until she was sliding back into his lap.

She felt so good against him. _Better than Emilie ever did_ , said a small traitorous voice in his head. But no, now was not the time to think about how Nathalie’s solid dependability had always suited him much better than his wife’s cheerful, bubbly nature, now was not even the time to think about the fact that for all he had never understood all of Emilie, he still loved her and missed her more than anything.

Now was not the time to think at all.

It was the time to act, to pull Nathalie hard down against him the instant he felt her hand on his cock, aligning him with her entrance. It was time to swear softly against her lips as she started to ride him, time to luxuriate in the feeling of her in his arms, of her warm and eager against him.

So long. It had been so long. He had hated even to masturbate, hated that his body’s needs made it necessary, from time to time.

Had hated the fact that sometimes, when he had, his mind had been filled with images of the woman who was currently letting out a little whimper of need and kissing his neck, with imagining what it would be like to bend her over his desk and take her in his office.

This was so much more intimate than anything he had ever let himself imagine. He'd imagined fucks, hard, fast, discreet, over his desk, up against a wall.

This…

Well, at least he knew for sure now, what lay under that devotion she showed him. It was obvious in every tender kiss she placed against his skin, obvious in the slow, careful way she touched him, obvious in the little sounds of contentment and need she made as she moved against him. Obvious, and he had always forced himself not to see it, because if he saw it he would have had to do something about it, and his heart could not have borne that betrayal before now.

But he had given up. Which meant he could have this, even if he wasn't sure of his own feelings, because he was sure of hers. And right now he needed this.

Right now, he needed _her_.

Her movements against him had become almost frantic now, and he matched them, working a hand between them to find her clitoris. Her hand was over his a moment later, adjusting, and then he found a rhythm that all too quickly had her gasping and clenching hard around him. He followed her to climax a moment later, and then she relaxed against his chest, a soft, warm bundle of woman that he thought he could almost pretend was Emilie, if he closed his eyes.

He didn't close his eyes.

She withdrew from him after a moment, standing up awkwardly, obviously trying to keep the mess to a minimum. A few seconds later she was handing him his glasses and a pile of tissues.

He kept stealing glances at her as he cleaned himself up, but as far as he could tell she seemed determined to ignore whatever it was that had just happened between them. She had a little frown on her face as she slid quickly back into her undergarments, as she gathered up his clothing and shook it out, laying it piece by piece over the arm of his chair before putting her own clothes back on. When she was fully dressed again—well before Gabriel had managed to do much more than get his trousers back on—she left the room, pushing the cart she had abandoned when she had come to comfort him.

She returned a few minutes later, as he was fussing with his tie, and adjusted it for him, making sure it was laying properly. It was an action she had carried out a hundred times before, but this time his heart pounded in his chest as she tweaked it back into shape.

She reached up, obviously planning to smooth a stray hair she’d spotted on his head back into place. He reached up as well and caught her by the wrist, and she froze.

“Nathalie, I…”

“Should get going soon if you want to make it in time for the end of your fashion show, sir.”

He studied her face. It was smooth and calm and utterly unaffected.

Perhaps he'd been wrong. Perhaps there was nothing more under that devotion of hers. “ _Do_ I want that?”

She shrugged and stepped back, and he released her wrist. “I don't know what you want, sir. But it would mean everything to Adrien.”

Of course. Of course it would. If he was giving up on Emilie, it was more than time for him to start being the father his son needed, wasn’t it? But he hesitated a moment longer, knowing, somehow, that if he left now, he might lose his chance to understand what had just happened, and why.

Nathalie didn’t even blush as he studied her face, looking for a sign that the tenderness he’d felt from her was there, somewhere, buried under all of the efficiency.

“The car should be ready for you, sir,” she said, and then she was gone again, about the business of keeping his life running smoothly.

Gabriel wasn’t alone with Nathalie again until that evening, and by then everything had changed. He knew now that it was possible to akumatize the holder of a Miraculous, and that such a person made for an exceptionally powerful ally. He hadn’t expected it to be possible, but now it had happened once, and he knew he could make it happen again.

He couldn’t give up now, not when he’d seen a way forward once again. Not when Ladybug and Cat Noir were making mistakes, mistakes that he could exploit.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel guilty, even as he reassured Emilie that they would be together again. Whatever it was that had happened with Nathalie earlier that day, it was just a slip, surely. A misstep that would never—that _could_ never—be repeated.

And still, it stung, Nathalie’s straightforward confrontation when he returned to the surface. “You said you were going to stop.”

He couldn’t bear to look at Nathalie as he told her that he couldn’t give up. As he said he missed Emilie too much. He wasn’t sure if it was because it was true, or if he just didn’t want to see Nathalie’s face as he said an almost-truth that was sure to hurt her.

There was no tremor in Nathalie’s voice as she responded. “I understand, sir.”

By the time he turned around, she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandboy brings Nathalie a nightmare she can’t cope with. Fortunately, Gabriel shows up to pick up the pieces.

Nathalie relaxed back on her couch, wearing a robe, hair freed from its tidy bun and braided loosely for the night, a glass of wine in her hand. It had been a long day.

Nathalie almost laughed at herself for that thought. Every day spent working for Gabriel Agreste was long. The man was a demanding boss. But now the days actually felt long. Ever since…

She’d always been aware of him, of course. Even before she’d taken this job, she’d thought he was a handsome man. They had both been handsome, him and Emilie, beautiful and well-dressed and the perfect couple in every way. So attached to one another.

She did laugh at that, a harsh, jagged little laugh that caught in her throat. Even with Emilie out of reach, Nathalie had known she had no chance with the man. And she wouldn’t have wanted to put herself between Gabriel and his wife, or so she told herself.

After all, she’d loved Emilie as well, or as much as Nathalie felt herself capable of loving anyone.

Nathalie had almost felt relieved, when Gabriel had said that he couldn’t give up on Emilie. Because whatever it was that had happened between them couldn’t exist, shouldn’t exist, and Nathalie had needed that reminder to remember it.

She took another sip of wine and sighed, letting her head fall back against the couch cushion. Yes. It had been a long day.

Outside, she heard a little sing-song voice, almost like a child, but it faded quickly. Probably just someone who had gotten a little bit tipsy at a bar and who was making their way home, singing along the way.

There was a sudden pounding at the front door to her apartment, and before Nathalie could react, the door burst open and Hawk Moth stumbled through, then collapsed on her living room floor. Nathalie let out a cry and set the glass of wine on the floor, or tried to; she was pretty sure it had tipped over, spilling its remaining contents, as she made a frantic dash for the door of her apartment.

She glanced out first. The hall was empty. Good. And then she shut the door behind her and turned to look at Hawk Moth, where he was sprawled on her floor, face down. As she watched, he tried to push himself upright, and only just barely managed to roll onto his back.

Then, suddenly, it was no longer Hawk Moth there, but just Gabriel Agreste, laying panting on her floor, a hand pressed to his stomach.

“Nathalie,” he said.

Blood was seeping up around his fingers. Nathalie felt the thud of her pulse in her ears and shoved down a sudden surge of panic, turning it into action instead. She dashed to her bathroom to find a clean towel. She was at his side an instant later. “Let me see, sir.”

“Nathalie,” he said again, and he lifted his hand from his abdomen, reaching towards her face, cupping her cheek almost tenderly with his bloody hand.

Nathalie carefully peeled back his clothing. Hell. He’d been impaled, no doubt by that damn staff Cat Noir always carried around. She didn’t know what else to do, so she pressed the towel hard against his midsection. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

“No.” Gabriel’s voice was harsh.

“Be reasonable, sir.” There was so much blood. The towel was already soaked through. “I can’t fix this. You need to go to a hospital.”

“They’ll know.”

“Like hell am I going to let you die like this!” Nathalie snapped her mouth shut on the panicked sentence that had just escaped it. She needed to be calm, to control her emotions. Panicking wouldn’t get things done.

A twisted little smile quirked up the corner of Gabriel’s mouth. “Too late for that, I think,” he said, the words obviously taking an effort to get out.

A sob forced its way out of Nathalie. “No. I refuse to accept that.”

Gabriel’s hand fell from Nathalie’s cheek, as if he no longer had the strength to keep it there. “Take… care…” he took a shallow, painful-seeming breath, “Of… Adrien…” he finished, and then his head lolled back against the floor, his eyes falling shut.

“No, no, no, no!” Nathalie lifted one of her hands from the soaked towel she was still holding hard against his stomach and patted his cheek, first gently and then harder. “Stay with me, sir! You have to stay with me!”

Gabriel’s eyes opened a slit, and he made an abortive attempt to reach towards her again, but even that small effort was too much for him.

A minute later, his breathing stopped. Nathalie knew CPR, and tried, oh god she tried, but he had lost so much blood.

An ambulance wouldn’t have arrived in time anyway.

She didn’t know how long she’d been laying there on the floor of her apartment, side-by-side with Gabriel’s corpse, his blood drying on her hands, when the miraculous power of the Ladybug swept through the room.

No more Gabriel, dead on her floor. No more blood. She glanced over at the couch and let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob; it had even righted her spilled wine glass.

She couldn’t bring herself to move from the floor.

Minutes, hours, days later, it felt like, and there was a brisk knock at Nathalie’s door. She managed to get herself to her feet somehow, the second time the knock came, managed to make her numb way over to the door, managed to open it… and it was Gabriel, standing there outside her door, whole and alive. He swept into her apartment, vibrating with excitement, and Nathalie choked back the sob in her throat, shut the door after he entered, leaned back against it.

“—more Miraculous,” he was saying, but there was a ringing in her ears and she was pretty sure she was only catching one word in five as she watched him pace her small living room like a caged tiger, “—here, just need to—” her knees felt weak, “—power, enough to—”

“I need to sit down,” she said abruptly, cutting him off.

She managed two steps back towards the couch before her entire world went black.

When Nathalie woke again, her cheek was pressed to a warm surface, a pair of strong arms were holding her close, a pair of lips were pressed to her forehead. She opened her eyes to find that Gabriel was sitting on her couch, holding her in her lap.

“Nathalie. Are you all right?” His voice was thick with concern.

“I’m fine,” she tried to say, but all that came out was a tight little squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m fine, sir.”

“You collapsed. That doesn’t seem fine to me.”

“I’ve had a… bad evening.”

Gabriel looked down at her with a frown between his eyebrows, then stiffened, as if coming to a sudden realization. “Of course. Sandboy would have been near here.”

“Sandboy?”

“Brought nightmares to life,” he said, sounding distressed. “Oh, Nathalie. I am sorry.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been caught up by one of your akumatized villains, you know.”

His body remained stiff and awkward against hers. Maybe he hadn’t known, despite the fact that one of those villains had been him. “What happened tonight?”

Nathalie shook her head and looked away from him. “Nothing I won’t recover from, in time.”

“Nathalie…” His hand was on her cheek, turning her face back towards him. “You do not need to be strong all the time, Nathalie.”

I need to be strong for you, she thought, but the only answer she gave him was a shake of the head.

Gabriel sighed and pulled her closer, tucking her head against his shoulder, and pressed another kiss to the side of her forehead, almost absentmindedly. “I should go.”

“Tell me again. What you were saying when you came in, that is. I’m afraid I didn’t catch most of it.”

“There are more Miraculous. Here. In Paris. Somewhere along the right bank of the Seine.”

Nathalie felt a little bit numb as she took that information in. “How many? And how do you know?”

“At least a dozen. I think more. Their kwamis were trying to contact…” Gabriel put his hand to his shirt front, where the Butterfly Miraculous was pinned. Nathalie realized, suddenly, that he wasn’t wearing a tie.

Not like him, to go out in public anything less than impeccably dressed. Not like him, to go out in public at all, even if it was the middle of the night. Had he needed to share his news so badly?

Had he needed her?

His lips brushed against her forehead again, and she pressed a kiss to his neck in response. There was a short, sharp inhalation of breath, and then he was tilting her head back, and then his mouth was coming down hard against hers.

Nathalie let herself forget that he was married, let herself forget his wife, the woman he really loved. Because right now, she was the woman he was kissing, and after the evening she had just had, she deserved this. She needed comfort, and she would take it from the lonely man who was now nibbling his way down her throat, who was opening her robe, whose hands were on her bare skin, caressing her, teasing her.

“Take me to my bedroom,” she whispered against his ear.

He let out a ragged, harsh breath. “Nathalie…” There was a warning in his voice.

“Like last time. Don’t say anything. Not unless it’s no.”

“It’s not.”

“Hush, then.”

Another of those harsh breaths, and he was standing from the couch with her still cradled in his arms. Nathalie pointed across the room at the half ajar door to her bedroom, and he carried her there, shouldering the door the rest of the way open, depositing her carefully on her bed, then sitting on the edge of it to remove his shoes. Nathalie wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind. “May I?” She let her fingers linger on the Butterfly Miraculous.

“Let me,” he said. He removed a jewelry box from his pocket and placed the pin inside before returning it to where it had come from. Nathalie started on the buttons of his vest instead, and his hands followed behind hers, unbuttoning his shirt.

Soon, she had Gabriel Agreste sprawled in her bed, completely naked and, from the look of things, as hard as a rock. She shed her robe and lay alongside him, reaching out to stroke a line down his chest to the place where the nightmare Gabriel had had a gaping hole, then lower, following a trail of silvery-pale hair down until her fingers brushed against his erect cock. He let out a little hiss of breath as her hand closed around him and thrust his hips against her, and then his hands were on her, tracing a similar, lazy path down her body. One of his hands stopped, cupped about her breast, but the other continued downwards.

He let out another hiss of breath when he found her wet and ready beneath his fingers, and then he was pulling back from her grasping hand, rolling over her, pressing her down into the bed with his full weight. He gasped as he thrust into her, all the way in one smooth stroke.

Nathalie was going to savor him, this time. She pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him slowly, tasting him, relishing the feeling of him over her, in her. His tongue darted into her mouth and she sucked on it gently, and he let out a moan and pulled away to bury his face against her shoulder, to press gentle kisses there.

And then his thrusts slowed, stopped, and he withdrew from her, kissing his way down her body, finding a nipple with lips and teeth and tongue, a sharp little pleasurable pain for just an instant before he moved on, not stopping until his head was between her thighs. His tongue found her clitoris, his hands gripped her thighs, and before long she was gasping and arching her back off the bed, rendered temporarily insensible by her orgasm.

Gabriel made a small, satisfied sound and worked his way slowly back up her body, the brush of his still-hard cock against the sensitive lips of her cunt almost too much to bear when finally he aligned his hips with hers. He thrust into her again, working quickly between her thighs, until he let out a low, almost pained grunt and stiffened against her, then collapsed on top of her, obviously completely spent.

Nathalie wrapped her arms around him, reaching a hesitant hand up to stroke the short hair at the nape of his neck. After a small eternity, she felt him sigh against her shoulder, and then he was withdrawing from her and reaching for the tissue box she kept on her bedside table.

They didn’t talk as they cleaned themselves up perfunctorily with the tissues, but when Gabriel moved to the edge of the bed and sat, obviously planning to go for his clothing, Nathalie put a stilling hand on his arm.

“You could stay.”

His eyes shut, his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched. And then…

“No.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There appears to be at least one day between Sandboy and Heroes' Day, so I'm giving these two disasters a couple of days and slotting this in sometime between those two episodes.
> 
> Nathalie refuses to be on the sidelines any more, and Gabriel tries to resist her and can't.

Gabriel heard the click of his office door closing, heard a second click as Nathalie locked it behind her, but he didn’t look up from his work. He had spent the entire day avoiding her as best as he could, and when it became necessary to interact, he had done his best to keep the interactions cold, professional, brief. It had been hard, especially when all he had wanted to do was pull her against him, to ask again what nightmare Sandboy had given her, to leave her so shattered.

At the same time, it had been easy, because Nathalie had been cold and professional herself, as if she had never once touched him the way she had the night before.

“We need to talk.”

He looked up at that, to where she was standing, on the other side of his desk. “I thought we agreed not to say anything.”

Nathalie shook her head. “Not about that.”

“What, then?” Gabriel frowned.

Nathalie’s jaw tensed, and then she let out a sigh. “I don’t want to be on the sidelines any more, sir.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want to help.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to respond, but Nathalie held up a stilling hand.

“I don’t mean what I do already. I know you value that.”

She was right. Her assistance had been invaluable, in tracking the connections between people, in finding those that could be exploited in just the right way to cause the negative emotions Hawkmoth needed to work. “What, then?”

She tilted her head to one side, as if considering. “You have the Peacock Miraculous.”

A surge of horror shot through him. “No. Not that.”

“Why not?”

“Like I told you, when you asked why I wasn’t using it. It’s damaged. Using it is dangerous.”

Nathalie looked down at his desktop, where she’d placed her hands on the edge. “Well, then. What about your plan with Vulpina?”

“What about it?”

“You’ll have your choice of negative emotions, of villains, if your plan works as expected. But…” Nathalie’s fingers traced along the edge of his desk, and Gabriel found himself transfixed by the sight, remembering those same fingers tracing their way down his body the night before. “You’ll have all the negative emotions you need, but even if you switch immediately from one person to another, you can only have one akuma active at a time.” She looked up from his desktop, catching his eye, and Gabriel swallowed hard. She had a steely, determined look on her face. “What power would you give, if that person was by your side, if you knew you could trust the person you were giving it to implicitly?”

Gabriel didn’t understand what she was getting at for a moment… and then suddenly, he did. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course.” Her voice was steady… but underneath it, Gabriel felt a surge of… something from her. Some emotion, undefined and unnameable.

“Nathalie…”

“I’m not afraid of it, sir.”

He couldn’t stand it, having the distance of the desk between them, so he went around it to her. Nathalie seemed frozen there, her hands still on the edge of the desk, and he couldn’t resist the temptation of wrapping his arms around her from behind. She let out a soft little sigh as he did, relaxing against him, and he was relieved to find that she wasn’t so entirely unaffected by his presence as he’d thought her. “I don’t deserve you,” he said against her ear, his cheek pressed against her hair.

She trembled, but didn’t say anything.

The door was locked. Adrien wasn’t in the house; he was off at his fencing lesson, his bodyguard along with him. Which meant that right at this moment, it was just him and Nathalie, and no likelihood of interruption for the next hour, at least.

He had told himself after the first time that it couldn’t happen again. He had told himself after the second time that two times was enough, but a third time would make it into a habit, and if there was any habit he had no right to be getting into, fucking his personal assistant was most definitely it.

He wouldn’t do it, then, Gabriel told himself. He was just holding her, like he would a friend who needed comfort. Holding her, and finding out what had left her in the state he had found her in, the night before. Finding out what could shake the usually strong and sensible Nathalie so badly that she collapsed from the aftermath of it.

“What happened last night?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, remember?” But her voice was unsteady.

“Before the nothing that happened. What did Sandboy show you, Nathalie?”

She was trembling again, her entire body shaking in his arms, and he held her steady. “You,” she said, her voice cracking, and he could feel the turmoil of her emotions.

“Me?”

“You died. On my living room floor. And I couldn’t… I wasn’t able to…” She took a deep, shaky breath, and calmed herself. Gabriel frowned. Normally it was a relief, being near someone who so easily kept their composure, but right now he was mentally cursing Nathalie’s ability to hide her emotions so well.

And then she turned her head enough to press a kiss to his jaw, she rubbed backwards against him, she put one of her hands over his and nudged it upwards, to cup her breast through her jacket. Gabriel forgot his irritation. Her emotions might be opaque, but her intentions weren't. Whether she was provoking him in order to stop him from asking any more questions or whether she was trying to take her mind off of whatever had happened before he’d arrived in her apartment the night before, he couldn't tell.

Why did she have to be so willing?

“I'm married,” he said out loud, as much a reminder to himself as it was to her, even as his hand felt out the curve of her breast beneath her jacket.

“I haven’t forgotten,” she responded, reaching back to grip his thigh hard with one hand. “Have you?”

“No,” he growled. But even so, he pulled her hard against him, unbuttoning her jacket with the hand that had been exploring her breast, letting the other slide down to press hard between her legs.

Nathalie let out a needy little whimper, and Gabriel realized he couldn't keep fooling himself any more. He wanted her, badly. Perhaps even more than he wanted Emilie back, at least in this moment. Because how could he think of his wife with Nathalie in his arms? How could he even consider anything else when he had her trembling against him, as he unbuttoned her trousers and slid his hand inside them, under her underpants, until he found the slick heat of her cunt?

He ground against her from behind, pressing kisses behind her ear, at the nape of her neck, all he could really reach above her turtleneck. He wanted…

He wanted this to not feel like a betrayal.

He would never have given up all the years he spent with Emilie. He would never have given up Adrien. But right now, some small part of him wished that he’d met the woman in his arms before he’d tied himself down with other obligations.

When he slid a hand around to her lower back and pushed her gently forward, she bent over the desk without resisting and spread her legs for him as best as she could with her trousers down around her thighs. It was like one of his fantasies, only so much better, because she was really here, because even if he could feel nothing else from her, lust was definitely present.

Gabriel unbuttoned his own trousers and slid them down far enough to release his cock and thrust into her from behind, his hands hard on her hips. She was wet and hot around him, as she had been every time they’d been together. So ready for him. It was intoxicating.

And it was too much, this sudden reality of something he’d fantasized about. He orgasmed hard, groaning and doubling over her back, after far too short a time. “Nathalie,” he heard himself say, as he wrapped his arms around her again, as he wished… “Nathalie.”

Nathalie remained silent, and after a moment he sighed and reached past her shoulder for the box of tissues on his desk. She took a few for herself, and they carefully disentangled themselves.

“I should ask,” Gabriel forced out as he did up his trousers, pushing past the stony silence Nathalie had maintained as they cleaned themselves up. “Are you… is there…?” How to ask the woman he was pretending not to fuck if she was on birth control?

Nathalie tossed her last tissue into the trash, then pulled up her trousers and did them up again. And then she slid out of her jacket, which she hadn’t buttoned up again, and reached for him, catching up his hand. “Here,” she said, pressing it to her upper arm. Beneath the thin fabric of her turtleneck, he felt a hard little rectangle that seemed to be embedded beneath her skin.

“What is that?”

“Birth control implant. Or is that not what you were asking about?”

Gabriel nodded, stiffly.

Nathalie shrugged back into her suit jacket and rebuttoned it. “Well, then. Hopefully that will put your mind at ease.”

It should have. But it made him wonder, a bit jealously, who she had had it put in for.

“Is that all you need me for tonight, sir? Or was there something else?” Nathalie had returned to the perfect, emotionless personal assistant persona she wore most of the day, all signs of distress, all signs of lust gone.

Gabriel wanted to pull her back against his chest and force an emotion from her, but instead he said, “No, that will be all,” and turned his back on her as she unlocked his office door and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly I needed to include art to make it clear that Gabriel is lying to himself completely about Platonic Hugging™


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter with no smut, taking place the night before Heroes’ Day, in which Nathalie and Gabriel still don’t manage to talk about their feelings like adults.

Having a goal in common, something to plan between the two of them, made everything both more and less awkward. On the one hand, meeting every day with Gabriel over the past few days, just the two of them behind the locked door of his office, had been excruciatingly painful… but at least the plans they were working on kept both of them from succumbing to the temptation they obviously both felt.

She hadn’t expected obvious from Gabriel. But sometimes she’d look up and find him staring at her, both heat and obvious guilt in his gaze.

Sometimes she stared back, daring him to start what they both knew was a terrible idea.

But no, there was no time. After all, both she and Gabriel had the business of, well, his business to keep running, and adding their planning sessions on top of that… well, she was used to running on a tight schedule. Now it was just that little bit tighter.

She’d found him staring at Emilie’s photo more than once, as if reminding himself why he was doing this.

“Go home early,” he told her, the night before Heroes’ Day. “Get a good night’s rest. One of us should.”

“Have you found what you need?” They’d discussed trying to find some villain who would keep Ladybug and Cat Noir up all night, but right now the best they could do was hope to chance. Tomorrow, of course, nothing would be up to chance…

“Not yet. But I will.”

Nathalie made as if to leave Gabriel’s office, but paused as she approached the door and turned back. He started when she put her hand on his shoulder. “You should sleep too, sir.”

“I will. Eventually.” He was glaring down at the screen in front of him, scribbling away at some design.

“Sir.”

“Nathalie, I’ll be fine,” he snapped.

“Might as well akumatize yourself again, if you’re going to be like that,” she snapped back.

He took a deep, indignant breath… and then laughed, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Putting me in my place, I see.”

_Because I’m worried,_ Nathalie wanted to say. _Because tomorrow, you need to be at your best. Because tomorrow, you’ll be face to face with them, for the first time._ But she refused to say those words out loud, refused to let the damn man in front of her know how much she cared for him. “You deserved it, sir.”

Gabriel had turned to look at her properly, had caught up her hand as it fell from his shoulder, was lifting it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to it. “You could help me sleep,” he murmured.

Nathalie’s breath caught in her throat. “That’s not a good idea at all.”

His tongue flicked out and teased the webbing between her thumb and the rest of her fingers. “I’m not a good man, Nathalie.”

She brought her other hand up to cup his cheek, to tilt his head down so he was forced to look her in the eyes. “But you want to be.”

There it was, that guilt, that anguish. No, she definitely couldn’t have sex with this man again. He sighed and released her hand, and Nathalie stepped back from him. “Not good,” he insisted.

“But not nearly as bad as you pretend to be.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s quite fun playing the villain,” he said in a considering tone of voice.

“I’m sure I’ll find out tomorrow,” Nathalie responded.

A small smile twitched the corners of his mouth up. “Have I told you how much safer I feel, having you to watch my back?”

“I’d feel better if I could come along with you and watch your back for real.”

Gabriel shook his head. “No. You’ll be the source. Better not put you in any more danger than necessary. If I lose you, I lose it all.” He said the last in a fervent tone that left Nathalie’s knees shaking. She knew it was only because she was key to their plan, but some small part of her wished he meant it as it sounded.

But no, this man didn’t love her. She was just a convenient fuck to him, and she was doing her best to make sure he was just the same to her. She would not read anything more into it than the actions of a man who had been lonely for too many years, no matter how she wanted to.

“Tomorrow, then,” she said, turning to leave again.

“Tomorrow,” came an echo from Gabriel as she shut the door of his office behind her.

_Please let this all be over tomorrow,_ Nathalie begged the universe as she travelled back to her apartment. _I don’t think I can bear much more of this._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during Heroes' Day. Another chapter lacking in smut, what happened, this was supposed to be a smut-fic.

Gabriel should have spent his morning napping after the busy night he’d had, keeping Ladybug and Cat Noir on the go. Instead he found himself in the garden, staring at the statue of Emilie that rested in a nook there. One of the advantages of having a famous wife, he supposed, was the number of artists who had been inspired by her, who had produced items that he had been able to purchase in order to fill his house with the memory of her when she had finally slipped beyond his reach.

Her memory hadn’t been enough to keep him from the physical betrayal he had engaged in, but at least his heart was still true.

He heard the tap of heels on the path, knew it was Nathalie approaching, and his heart jumped in his chest. Worried. He was simply worried that he was asking too much of her, that she would be injured simply because she believed in him, simply because she was loyal to him.

“If it were to fail, Nathalie, I could never forgive myself.” He couldn’t bring himself to turn and see the expression on her face.

“You made a promise to your wife. You’ve risked so much for the chance to bring her back.” There was something in Nathalie’s voice, but by the time he turned to her, she was all business again, saying what they both knew to be true about Lila. “Your plan is perfect, sir,” she ended.

Gabriel frowned. Their plan, not his alone. But she would demur, if he insisted. “And you’re sure you want to do this?”

“I will always be here for you. We will succeed.” There. There it was again, but Gabriel could do nothing about it now. Not when he was so close. Not when _they_ were so close.

They went to work.

There was something comforting about Nathalie’s presence in his lair with him, about the strength of her loyalty, there at his shoulder. He hadn’t quite expected the surge of lust from her that came with his transformation into Hawkmoth, and for a moment he considered delaying this, for just a short while. Not that he could remove enough of the costume to have his way with her completely, but that would only stop him from taking his own pleasure, not from giving pleasure to her.

No. He needed to focus. Send a butterfly to turn Volpina, and there, the wash of negative emotion, welling up across the city, so strong that he could barely feel Nathalie’s loyalty beyond it. By the time he turned to her again, akuma in hand, he had himself under control. “Are you ready, Nathalie?”

She was.

He’d expected—hoped—that her hand would tremble against his as he took it, as he gave her the power he needed, as he used the words necessary to tie it to that stony certainty, that loyalty that was at the core of her. But she didn’t.

“Catalyst. You have always been my most loyal supporter. I give you the ability to boost powers.” The expression on her face made Gabriel glad that she would be staying behind in his lair. He had never wanted to bring her into this, and now that she was here… now that she was here, he suspected she would do anything she felt necessary to keep him safe. Better to keep her far away from the action, where she couldn’t be hurt.

The instant the transformation was complete, her hand was on his cane, transferring the power he needed to take advantage of the negative emotions of the city surrounding them.

He didn’t deserve it, this loyalty. But thanks to it, he had an army, and a plan that was sure to succeed.

Or so he’d thought.

It was hard to remember that certainty an hour later, when it was him against Ladybug and her allies, when they’d broken his cane, when escape looked impossible. But at least Nathalie wasn’t here to share in his downfall. At least she was safe.

He realized too late that this wasn’t true at all.

“Hawk Moth, I am Mayura,” Nathalie’s voice echoed in his head, and suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.

“You’re up against the wall, plagued by your deepest, darkest despair. Let me help you.” He could hear a smile in her voice, could feel the hope she carried with her.

He hadn’t truly felt despair, he realized, until he’d heard her voice, until he’d realized what it meant. “No. Don’t do that!”

“Let your despair be embodied in a powerful protection.”

_She’s going to do this whether you want her to or not,_ he realized. And he couldn’t let her sacrifice be in vain.

Gabriel let the power of the Peacock Miraculous fill him, felt it draw power from his despair. And then, the instant he had his chance, he made his escape.

Everything hurt, even as Hawk Moth. When he shed the transformation, he doubled over in pain… but only for a moment. Nathalie. He had to get to Nathalie. He found a taxi, for all that it was a foolish thing to do. After all, he was recognizable and known to be a recluse. But he needed speed over secrecy at the moment.

The miraculous power of the Ladybug washed over him as he traveled back home, healing his injuries, leaving him hopeful that the same could be said of Nathalie. Perhaps he would find her back in his office, solid and dependable and back at work.

He found her laying on the floor of his lair, barely conscious.

She was almost back to herself by the time he deposited her in one of the living room chairs. Almost, but not quite.

“I told you never to use the Peacock Miraculous.” He knelt in front of her, looking up at her with concern.

She tried to shove herself upright as she responded, as if attempting to calm his worries by being strong. “I had no choice, sir! I had to save you!” She coughed weakly and fell backwards against the chair.

“It’s damaged! It’s way too dangerous.” Gabriel swallowed. His voice had almost broken as he’d said those words, revealing feelings that he wasn’t entirely certain were real.

There was a smile on Nathalie’s face as she answered, relief in her heart, her certainty that she’d done the right thing today washing over him. “I want to help you. All the way to the end.”

Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut hard. How could he accept this from her?

And, if he didn’t accept it, what might she do instead?

So he thanked her instead of refusing it. “For everything,” he said, forcing a smile to his face, reaching out and putting his hand over hers. This little bit of himself, he could give her.

Nathalie smiled weakly back at him and turned her hand over, wrapping her fingers around his.“Thank you, sir.”

He nodded, and stood, and she released his hand instantly. “Time for me to get back to work. I’ve neglected too many things this week.”

“I’ll take that as a hint that I should get back to work as well, sir,” Nathalie said in a dry little voice that made Gabriel smile again. And then she tried to stand, and almost fell to the floor instead.

Gabriel caught her and deposited her back in the chair. “You'll spend the rest of today resting,” he said insistently.

“Fine,” Nathalie said, then coughed again, a deep wheezing cough that left Gabriel’s heart clenching in his chest in fear. “Once I recover enough to make my way back home,” she said once she regained her breath. “Until then, bring me my tablet. I can work from here.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Don't you dare even try.”

“Sir…”

He scooped her up in his arms again, carrying her out of the living room and heading towards the stairs. “You’ll rest. If I have to tie you to a bed in one of the guest bedrooms to keep you from attempting to work, I’ll do it.”

She laughed weakly at that, and he felt her fingers trace lightly across his cheekbone. He glanced down to find her smiling affectionately at him. “You didn’t sleep last night. You should rest too.”

Gabriel should have gone to one of the guest bedrooms, but his footsteps took him to his own bedroom, and he carried Nathalie in without thinking about what he was doing and laid her down on his bed. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“If we both need to rest, here’s most efficient,” he said, removing his tie, unpinning the Miraculous at his neck.

“You must be delirious with exhaustion if you think I’m in any condition to sleep with you, sir.” Her eyebrows twitched upwards again, obviously incredulous.

“Just sleep,” he said, shrugging out of his coat, kicking off his shoes, ignoring the fact that this was an extremely bad plan. He was feeling his failure acutely; he needed her next to him. For whatever reason, he needed her.

He locked his bedroom door before joining her on the bed, and only just managed to wrap his arms around her before succumbing to his exhaustion.

Hours later, he woke in a panic, his arms empty. “Nathalie?”

“I’m still here,” she said from across his bedroom. She had obviously gotten out of bed and had moved to his dressing table, sitting in the plush chair in front of it, frowning down at her phone. “I have thirty-seven emails to answer. And don’t worry, I texted Adrien. He’s at the hero benefit now.”

Nothing of the sort had been worrying Gabriel. “How are you feeling?”

She glanced across the room at him, unreadable, and Gabriel regretted removing the Butterfly Miraculous before going to bed. “Fine. You?”

“The Ladybug healed me, so now that I’ve had a nap, I’m feeling much better.”

Nathalie laughed, a dark little chuckle. “Oh. I can’t imagine she intended that.” Her gaze turned back to her phone, and he heard her typing. “Hm. Supply chain issues for that new line of jackets. I’ll have to spend tomorrow sorting them out.”

Gabriel suddenly wanted her attention on him, not on her phone, not on the damned business she helped him run. He rolled out of bed and crossed the room quietly in his stockinged feet until he was close enough to snatch the phone out of Nathalie’s grasp and toss it on to the dressing table.

She let out a little huff of annoyance and reached for it, but he snatched her hand away. “Sir.”

“Are you really feeling better?”

She looked up at him with a frown. “Of course.”

“Good.” He picked Nathalie up out of his chair and carried her back to his bed.

She made a noise that he read as resigned acceptance and hooked her fingers around the buttons of his shirt along the way. “I thought we weren’t doing this any more.”

“I never said that.” He laid her gently down on his bed and started unbuttoning her jacket.

“Because we aren’t saying anything about this, are we?” She sounded irritated, now. “Not unless it’s to say no.”

“Are you saying no?” His hands froze at the hem of her shirt.

She reached up and cupped his cheek gently. “I should. You… I don’t need a Miraculous to tell that you hate yourself for this.” He opened his mouth to protest, and she held up a stilling hand. “You look guilty, every time I catch you looking at me. So don’t tell me you don’t feel it.”

He couldn’t.

A small, sad smile appeared on Nathalie’s face, and she dropped her hand from his face, used it to lift his hands off of her midsection. “Well, then,” she said. “I think it’s time for us to get back to doing our real jobs, sir.”

She sat up, and instead of giving in to the urge to press her back into the mattress and kiss her senseless for scaring him the way she had today, he stepped back, giving her the space she needed to stand, to straighten her clothing, to walk around him to the door of his bedroom. He watched her go, feeling lost.

She paused before unlocking the door, turning and looking back at him. “I don’t regret it, Gabriel.” And then, before he could think of a response, she was gone.

He thought it might have been the first time she had ever called him by his first name in all of her years of working for him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly "Adrien has adopted Nathalie as a mom-figure and freaks out when he realizes she's sick." Goodness knows when this takes place relative to anything because I'm not keeping track any more because this has gotten completely out of hand.

She had felt better when Gabriel had asked, Nathalie told herself. She really had. But a bone-deep weariness still plagued her, even a week later, along with a cough that she couldn’t quite shake.

She managed to hide the cough, more or less. But the weariness… that was harder. She’d slipped up a few times, had found Gabriel watching her carefully, had needed to make excuses about not having had her second cup of coffee, about there being a lot of pollen in the air that day.

She wasn’t entirely certain he bought those excuses.

Adrien, at least, seemed blissfully unaware of her exhaustion. Which made it all that much worse when, one afternoon, when she came to greet Adrien as he returned from school, she started coughing and couldn’t stop.

The last thing she remembered before blacking out was Adrien holding her by the shoulder and saying her name.

She woke up in a hospital bed, Adrien in the chair beside her bed. He had an anxious look on his face and was holding her hand so tightly he’d almost cut off the circulation. “You’re awake.”

“Yes,” she managed to respond, though her throat was sore and her voice hoarse. She tried to remove her hand from Adrien’s, but all she could manage was a weak tug.

“The doctor said she’d come back when you woke up.” Adrien pressed the call button next to the bed. “She said… she said there’s nothing wrong with you, not that they could find, but that can’t be right.”

“Just a bit of a summer cold,” Nathalie rasped. “Sure it’s nothing.”

“You passed out. I couldn’t wake you up again. I had to get my bodyguard—I couldn’t find father, he must have been out of the house for a meeting, I didn’t know what else to do—”

“Hush.” Nathalie placed her free hand on his arm.

Adrien shuddered and started to cry. “I can’t lose you too, Nathalie. You’re the only one…” he choked on a sob, then soldiered through it. “You’re the only one who didn’t _leave_ me.”

 _Oh._ Nathalie reached out and tugged Adrien’s shoulder, and with remarkably little resistance he came to her, let go of her hand so she could wrap her arms around him and pull him close as he leaned over the hospital bed. He’d grown up so much over the past year that she’d forgotten how young he still was.

A woman in a white coat opened the door and then retreated as Nathalie caught her eye and shook her head. After a little while, Adrien seemed to have cried himself out. He snuffled against Nathalie’s shoulder and pulled away from her, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Sorry. I guess… I’m a little old, to be crying like that.”

Nathalie shook her head and took his hand again. “No. Nothing of the sort. If anyone deserves to cry, it’s you. But… your father’s still here, Adrien. He didn’t leave you either.”

Adrien’s expression turned sullen for a moment. “He might as well have.”

Not for the first time, Nathalie wished she could tell Adrien what his father was trying to do. That Gabriel was trying to bring Emilie back, that soon, soon, his family would be whole again.

But she knew it was too much of a risk. Adrien was young and idealistic, and no doubt his loyalties would be with those of the rest of the city of Paris, with Ladybug and her Cat Noir. She couldn’t let anything slip. “He still loves you, you know.”

The expression on Adrien’s face almost broke Nathalie’s heart. “I’ll go find the doctor,” he said instead of some more sensible response. He got to his feet and she released his hand, watching him leave the room with a resigned slump to his shoulders.

He was too young to be so sad.

He appeared a few minutes later with the doctor, and stepped outside when the doctor asked him to give her and her patient a little privacy.

“Dr. Aditi Korai,” the woman said, and then launched into an efficient list of Nathalie’s symptoms… and the complete lack of any discernible reason for them.

“Is there anything beyond what the boy reported?”

Nathalie shook her head. What use was there in trying to find a medical cure for something magical in nature?

Dr. Korai frowned. “Well, we can do some more tests, but as far as I can tell, you _should_ be fit as a fiddle.”

“I feel fine,” Nathalie said, immediately putting the lie to her words by trying to sit up and failing. Dr. Korai frowned.

“That doesn’t look fine. Definitely putting you down for more tests.”

Nathalie’s phone buzzed as the doctor was making notes on her clipboard, and she picked it up. “It’s my boss. I need to take this.”

Doctor Korai nodded distractedly.

“Nathalie? Where are you? Do you know where Adrien is? He’s not answering his phone. Neither is his bodyguard.” Gabriel’s voice was tight with an almost-panic.

“I’m in the hospital. Adrien brought me here.”

“What happened?”

Nathalie winced and moved the phone away from her ear. Gabriel had been shouting. “I had a coughing fit. Couldn’t get my breath again. I’m fine now.”

“I’m coming there right away.”

“It’s fine, sir. There’s no need. You’ll just draw unnecessary attention to the situation.”

“Nathalie…” There was a strained quality to Gabriel’s voice as he said her name, and then he sighed. “Fine. But we need to have a talk when you return.”

“Of course, Mr. Agreste,” Nathalie said in her dullest personal assistant tone.

“I hate it when you do that,” Gabriel muttered into the phone. And then, before she could voice her confusion, he hung up.

Nathalie sent Adrien and his bodyguard home before long; the tests Dr. Korai wanted to run were extensive, and lasted until well past midnight. “Might as well get these done when we can be sure you’re fasting,” she told Nathalie apologetically. Like every other test, they showed nothing wrong.

An evening spent mostly in bed had done wonders for Nathalie’s exhaustion, even if she hadn’t been able to nap much. But by the time she was discharged and had made her way out of the hospital, all she could think about was her bed. Surely Gabriel hadn’t meant for her to go back to the Agreste mansion tonight. Or if he had, he could cope. She was going back to her apartment and snatching those few hours of sleep she would still be able to manage before it was time to wake up and get back to work.

She tried to be surprised by the sight of a tall figure leaning against the wall of the hallway outside of her apartment door, but she wasn’t.

“Mr. Agreste.”

“Nathalie, please.”

She sighed and unlocked her door. “Come in, Gabriel.”

He went past her into her apartment and waited for her to lock up behind them. And then, without a word, he pulled her into a crushingly tight hug. “I was worried about you,” he murmured against her hair.

Nathalie sighed again and leaned her head against his shoulder, wrapped her arms around his waist, let her body relax against his.

“You didn’t recover, did you?” he asked finally, after they’d been standing there for what felt like a small eternity.

“I feel better than I did right after.”

“But you’re still feeling the after-effects.”

Nathalie didn’t try to deny it this time. “Yes.”

“I’d been wondering.” He stroked a hand up her back, cradled the back of her head gently, working his fingers through strands of hair that had been hanging loose since she’d removed all of her bobby pins for a MRI. “You haven’t been yourself. I hoped it was just…” he sighed, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I do feel guilty. You’re right. But I’d rather feel guilty and have you than spend another week like this past one.” He slid his fingers along her jaw, tilted her head back, and Nathalie was too weak to resist.

Oh, not too weak physically, though physical weakness was there. But instead, it was her heart that was too weak, far too weak for this man, too weak to pull away as she should have done when he pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth. Weak enough that instead she pressed back up against him, turning the gentle kiss into a deeper one, turning a deep kiss into an open-mouthed one.

Nathalie had missed him, over the past two weeks. She couldn’t quite stop herself from lusting after him, not now that she knew how it felt to have him, no matter how much his guilt made her hesitate. And she had missed him.

Gabriel lifted his mouth from hers, gasping for breath. “I should go. You’ve had a long day, you’re clearly not yourself…”

Nathalie lifted a hand and pressed her fingers to his lips. “Stay.”

He obviously had needed no further encouragement. He swept her off her feet in an instant and carried her to her bedroom, laying her gently down on the bed. And then, bit by bit, he undressed her, obviously relishing the slow reveal of her skin, bending down to press kisses to her stomach as he pulled her turtleneck off, exploring first one nipple and then the other with his tongue after removing her bra. His own clothing he shed hastily, pulling it off, tossing it to the floor without a care.

Finally, _finally_ , he had her naked underneath him, safe beneath the weight of his body, moving over her in a gentle rhythm that she met and increased, until the hand he worked down between her thighs drove her over the edge. He worked in her quickly until his own climax took him, pressing her hard into the mattress of her bed, his head nestled against her shoulder, his lips pressed to her neck.

 _Like this_ , she thought desperately. _If only it could be like this forever._

It couldn’t be. She knew it couldn’t.

But that didn’t stop her from wanting.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> time for more angst

Gabriel woke in Nathalie’s bed, momentarily confused about where he was until he reached out and found her in the bed next to him. His first instinct was to pull her close to him. They'd wound up on opposite sides of the bed in the night, but now that he was conscious he wanted her pressed to his chest, safe and protected from the world.

He'd known, over the years, that Nathalie’s feelings for him went beyond those of duty. He’d known.

He had just always told himself that he didn't care. And it wasn't as if Nathalie had been fixed on him; after all, there was that implant in her arm, the assured way she had pressed his fingers to it, as if it were not the first time she had done so.

She was a beautiful woman. A woman who could have so much more than he was able to offer her. And he couldn’t offer her anything, in the end. His heart… for all that he felt something for Nathalie, at least enough to want her safe, at least enough to be attracted to her... for all of that, his heart still belonged to his wife, and he could not offer it to the woman in his arms.

But for right now, Nathalie had chosen him in spite of that, and he could not imagine refusing what she was willing to give to him.

Nathalie murmured something incoherent and nestled even closer, nuzzling against his neck. Gabriel’s heart clenched tightly inside his chest. Oh, he did not deserve this.

“Gabriel?”

He had been worried for a moment that she'd call him sir. “I'm here.”

“I noticed. Why?”

“Because…” Because he hadn't been able to bear leaving her last night. “Because someone needed to keep an eye on you.”

“Ah.” Gabriel thought it must have been the wrong answer, because she pulled away from him. “What time is it?”

“I don't know,” he responded.

“Adrien…”

“Is old enough to get himself to school.” Had been old enough to run his own life for quite a while now. They'd talked last night, when Adrien had come home from the hospital. Gabriel had learned exactly what had happened the day before… and how well Adrien had done in the face of what must have been a terrifying experience. “He knows where I am.”

“Oh, _no._ ” Nathalie sounded horrified. “What must he _think_?”

“I can’t imagine he thinks anything other than that you're being well cared-for,” Gabriel said indignantly. The thought that his son might come to the correct conclusion about what Gabriel had been doing in Nathalie’s apartment last night was too horrifying to contemplate.

“He’s a teenager, Gabriel. They do know what sex is.”

That lead to another horrifying thought. “You don't think he’s…?”

Nathalie let out a little snort of laughter. “Your face is a picture. And he’s probably a little young for that just yet. But that doesn't mean he’s not thinking about it.”

“Heaven forbid.”

“He’s growing up. It's part of the process.” There was a wry little smile on Nathalie’s face, and Gabriel found himself wondering if she was thinking about her own teenaged years.

“Clearly I ought to be supervising him more, not less,” Gabriel grumbled.

“You should. He needs you.”

“I…” Gabriel sighed. “I will. When…”

Nathalie withdrew further, retreating back to the other side of the bed, where she’d spent the night. “Time for me to get on with my day, sir.”

“Nathalie…” Now clearly wasn’t the time, but if he didn’t ask now, he’d never manage it. “I think you should move in to a room in the mansion. Just until you’re feeling better.”

Nathalie’s face went completely blank. “No.”

“Please. I can’t bear the thought of you… if that had happened while you were on your way to or from work…” He reached for her, but Nathalie turned her back to him and rolled upright, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling part of the sheet around her torso to cover herself.

“No.” Gabriel reached for her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. “I think you need to leave now, sir.”

“Damnit, Nathalie!” The words wrenched their way out of his throat. “I can’t bear the thought of you injuring yourself when I can make sure you’re _safe._ ”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You know Paris isn’t safe right now. Not for anyone. Not for me, not for your son, not even for you.”

“Not the point,” Gabriel snarled, even as some small part of him acknowledged that she had a point. “I can keep you safe from _this_ … this damn _weakness_ that using the Peacock Miraculous has caused. Or at least make sure there is someone there to care for you when you succumb to it.”

“Like hell. You just want me close at hand because it makes your life more… more _convenient._ ”

Gabriel jerked backwards involuntarily, startled by the vitriol in Nathalie’s voice. “That’s not—”

Nathalie turned to look at him properly. “What happens when Hawkmoth succeeds, Gabriel? What happens if I’m still…” she took a deep wheezing breath, and seemed almost of the verge of tears. “Still like this? How do you explain that to your _wife_?” She shook her head. “So no. I’m not moving in to the mansion. No. I’m not doing this again. So don’t… just don’t. Anything. Don’t _care_ , don’t _worry_ , don’t try to keep me safe, because at the end of all of this I…” Nathalie made a choked noise and turned her back to him again, doubling over, her face in her hands. “At the end of this I’m still where I started,” she continued in a voice thick with tears. “In love with a man who doesn’t really give a damn about me beyond a quick fuck.”

Gabriel had never seen Nathalie show so much emotion before, and didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t know what to do with her words, either. He’d suspected affection, but… love?

So instead of reaching for her the way he wanted to, he got out of bed and moved around the room, gathering the clothing he’d tossed aside so hastily the night before. He dressed, and left, and hated himself more than ever.

But not as much as he hated himself when, an hour later, Nathalie appeared by his desk, the day’s schedule in hand, pristine and efficient and outwardly as emotionless as a doll… because now that he had pinned the Butterfly Miraculous to his throat again, now that he knew to look for it, he did not know how he could possibly have fooled himself for so long.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Less angst, but talking about feelings is still Impossible for both of them.
> 
> ...also more Adrien claiming Nathalie as mom while trying to take care of her in turn, this time with Awkwardness.

Somehow, Nathalie managed to keep her mask on all day. It was hard; Adrien kept shooting her worried looks as she went over his schedule in the morning, and had insisted she sit down when she came to check on him at lunch time. “I’m fine, Adrien. I feel much better.”

“You can still sit. Father can’t expect you to run around working if you’re looking after me,” Adrien said with a stubborn set to his chin. “Eat lunch with me? Please?”

Nathalie hadn’t quite been able to suppress a smile. “All right.”

And then… and then there was the guilty look Mr. Agreste had been giving her these past few weeks, which had taken a turn for the heart-wrenching today. And which also left her wanting to slap him.

Slap him, and yell, yell things like “Well, what did you think was going on, you idiot?” and “Stop thinking you can have everything!”

She wouldn't, of course. Perhaps if she'd taken his offer to live in the mansion seriously, she would be reduced to that in a week or so, but right now, she wouldn't… and she’d made sure it was something she would never have to resort to.

By the end of the day—and it had been a very long day, even discounting her mostly-sleepless night—Nathalie was about ready to collapse. Still, one more barrier to overcome.

“Do you need anything else, sir?”

Mr. Agreste looked up… and there was that damn guilty look again, and for all that she was exhausted her fingers itched. “No. But Nathalie…”

“Mr. Agreste?” It took all of her self-control to keep herself calm, to keep herself steady.

“Adrien’s bodyguard will drive you home.”

“I can take a bus—”

“Adrien’s bodyguard _will_ drive you home,” he said again, his face firming into a glare. “Please. If you will accept nothing else, accept this.”

“Very well.” Nathalie turned to leave, but paused by the door when he called her name again.

“Oh, and Nathalie?”

“Sir?”

“I… I didn't know. Maybe that makes me a fool…no, that definitely makes me an fool, and the only person I was fooling was myself—” his eyes darted down and his fingers went unconsciously to the butterfly broach she knew was pinned at his throat “—but I shouldn't have taken advantage of your feelings, whatever they were.” He looked back up, and the guilt was gone, leaving only sorrow. “Whatever they are.”

“It's a little late for you to be thinking about that, sir.”

“I know.” He looked her over and frowned. “You look dead on your feet. Go home.”

His voice had gone gentle, worried, soft, and she wanted… well, what she wanted didn’t matter. Wanting to go to him, wanting to fold herself against his chest, wanting to rest her head against his shoulder, wanting him to hold her… none of that wanting meant that actually doing those things was a good idea, even if she suspected that he would open her arms for her if she turned back and went to him right now. Even if she wanted the comfort it would provide.

“Good night, sir.”

Apparently, though, there was one more obstacle. Adrien was waiting for her at the front door at his bodyguard’s side.

“Adrien. Is something wrong?”

“I was wondering…” he looked nervous. “Couldn’t you stay here in the mansion? Just for a little while,” he added in a rush. “Until you’re feeling better for sure.”

Nathalie frowned. “Did your father put you up to this?”

Adrien gave her a confused look. “My father?”

“Never mind.” Nathalie shut her eyes and pressed her fingers into her temple. “It’s been a long day, Adrien. I just want to go home.”

“Okay.” He was quiet for a moment, but when Nathalie opened her eyes he was staring at her with a little worried frown between his eyebrows. “Could… could I come along? Just to make sure you make it back to your apartment all right?” Nathalie opened her mouth to tell him no, but before she could, he added, “It’s just there have been so many akuma attacks lately, and if you’re sick…”

Nathalie almost wanted to laugh. There Adrien was, standing next to his mountain of a bodyguard, and he thought there was something _he_ could do in the face of an akuma attack that his bodyguard couldn’t? Still, it was adorable, in a way that Mr. Agreste’s overprotectiveness wasn’t. “Fine. Come keep me safe from rampaging akumas.”

She thought he could probably tell that she was teasing him, but instead of taking offense, he smiled cheerily. “Let’s go, then.”

They sat in awkward silence in the car for a few minutes before Nathalie offered up a cautious “How was school?”

“Good.” Adrien looked down at his hands. “It was… good.”

His tone implied the opposite, but Nathalie didn’t really have any right to pry. “It was still the right choice? We could always go back to homeschooling you if you really want to, you know. You don’t have to stick with it if it’s making you unhappy.”

Adrien looked up, startled. “It isn’t,” he insisted. “It’s not… I love having _friends_ , Nathalie. I love…” he trailed off, frowning. “What do you do when you know someone’s lying about everything?”

The question brought to mind all the things Nathalie was lying to Adrien about. Lies of omission, but still lies. “I… I don’t know. I suppose it depends on why this person feels the need to lie. Not every lie is bad, after all. Sometimes we lie to people to protect them.”

Adrien’s chin firmed stubbornly, and for a moment she thought he was going to say that all lies were wrong… and then he sighed. “I guess so. But… what if they’re all bad lies? What if they’re meant to hurt people? And what if everyone else believes them?”

“All you can really do is stand up for what’s right. Even if it’s hard.” Nathalie swallowed, hard. She hadn’t been doing a very good job of that herself, as of late.

Adrien smiled. “I know how to do that.”

“I know.” Despite knowing it wasn’t her place, Nathalie reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently, and Adrien gave her a small, grateful smile in return.

A minute later, they pulled up in front of her apartment building. “I’ll walk you to your door,” Adrien insisted. Nathalie exchanged a glance with Adrien’s bodyguard in the rearview mirror, and he nodded.

“Come on, then,” Nathalie said. Adrien trailed her up the narrow stairs to her third floor apartment, followed by his bodyguard, and both waited while she unlocked her door.

“You’re really feeling better than you were yesterday?”

Nathalie nodded.

And then Adrien’s eyes fixed on something beyond Nathalie, inside her apartment. “Is… is that one of father’s neckties?”

Nathalie glanced over her shoulder. How she hadn’t managed to notice it this morning on her way out of the apartment… “You know, I think it might be.” She stepped into her apartment and bent to scoop the scrap of fabric off the floor, mentally cursing the man for having such a distinctive style… and herself for most likely being the reason it had been abandoned in the middle of her tiny living room. “Here. He must have forgotten it when he came to check up on me last night. Could you make sure it gets back to him?”

Adrien took the tie with a vaguely scandalized expression on his face. “Sure,” he said, his voice suddenly squeaky. Behind Adrien, his bodyguard simply shook his head, a disapproving look on his face.

Nathalie found herself blushing, for all that she had no real reason to blush. After all, there were a dozen different ways that Gabriel’s tie could have ended up on her living room floor. No reason for Adrien to suspect the real one, which was most likely that she had taken it off herself and tossed it to one side while kissing Gabriel the night before. “Good night, then.”

“Good night,” Adrien echoed, looking down at the tie in his hands with a vaguely bemused expression on his face. Bemused… and, Nathalie thought, hopeful.

 _Well_ , she thought as she closed the door behind her and locked up, _that could become a problem._


	9. Chapter 9

“Do you want to tell me, sir, why there was an akuma attack while you were supposed to be on a train to London?”

Gabriel looked up, startled. He and Nathalie had been carefully avoiding any subject other than the company she helped him run for the past several weeks, and given that he had been home from said London trip for a day and a half, he hadn’t expected to be lectured about it. “It was necessary.”

Nathalie slammed her open palm down on his desk. “It was an unacceptable risk!”

“ _She knew the guardian_ ,” he hissed in return, leaning in close. “I could not pass up such a chance.”

“You could have been caught. Where did you even transform?” Nathalie hissed back, leaning in closer, still obviously furious.

Gabriel cleared his throat and straightened up, adjusting a tie that was suddenly too tight around his throat. “The bathroom, of course.”

“My god.” Nathalie’s voice was faint with horror. “You’re lucky you aren’t in jail.”

“As if anyone could have captured me while I had this,” Gabriel said, putting his hand over the Miraculous pinned at his neck. “I would have been fine.”

“You would have been exposed. How do you think your son would feel, finding out that you’re Hawk Moth?”

Gabriel hesitated. Surely Adrien would forgive him. Gabriel was his father. Adrien would have to.

Adrien, who had a phone full of photos of the Ladybug.

Oh.

“He would learn to understand, in the end,” Gabriel insisted, not quite believing the words.

Nathalie let out a disbelieving snort. “I don’t understand why you didn’t contact me. I could have become Mayura—“

“No!” The word escaped Gabriel’s throat, a harsh, desperate sound. “My god, Nathalie, if you think I would risk you like that again...”

“I’m fine, sir. I’m better.”

It was true, whatever magical ailment had slowed her down and stolen the breath from her lungs seemed to have faded, though sometimes there was a slight wheeze to her breathing that worried him. But when he remembered her limp in his arms, after the first time she had used the Peacock Miraculous, he could not imagine letting her touch the thing again. “And if you had collapsed again? I was in London, Nathalie. You might have died, alone, in the dark.” He reached up and cupped his hand around her cheek, and she let him. “Is that really what you want?”

To his surprise, she leaned into his hand, shutting her eyes, obviously taking comfort from the small gesture. “If it would make you—your family whole again...”

A small stammer, correcting the real reason she was doing this. He did not deserve her.

He still wanted her.

He leaned in close, let his nose brush against hers. “Is the door locked?”

“Do you think I wouldn’t have locked it behind me if I was coming to yell at you like this?” Nathalie asked in a low, breathless voice, an unwarranted sarcasm underlying the words that he chose to ignore.

“Good.” He lowered his mouth to hers, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss, and oh, she was so responsive, opening her mouth under his, her hands clinging to the lapels of his jacket and pulling him closer.

“Don’t do that again,” she said as he broke the kiss to press his lips against the pulse in her neck, warm and thrumming. “I wouldn’t be able to bear it if you got caught. Please...”

“Please?” He lifted his head to look at her.

Nathalie opened her eyes at last, the cool blue of them wild and dark. “Please,” she said, and pulled his mouth to hers once more.

It would be taking advantage of her fear for him, to accept what she was obviously willing to give him, despite the way she had thrust him away again and again. It would be taking advantage of her feelings, and a good man would never do that.

Gabriel had never been a good man.

He pulled her close, turning them both the quarter turn he needed to lift her to his desk, and once on its surface she spread her legs for him and wrapped them around his hips, letting out a whimper as he ground against her.

“Here,” she said, her voice rough. She slid her fingers into his pocket and pulled out the jewelry case he kept the Butterfly Miraculous in when he wasn’t using it. “So you can ignore at least part of what’s making you guilty.”

Guilt had been the last thing on his mind right at this moment. He had been reveling at the feeling of her in his arms again, warm and welcoming and whole. But he unpinned the Miraculous all the same and placed it in the box before setting it safely aside.

“Nathalie. I...” he could not think what to say. He studied her face, wondering what had caused this sudden turnabout in her feelings, for her to be willing to offer him her body once more.

“Don’t question it. I just...” she traced her fingers across his cheekbone, let them feather through his hair. “I don’t want to lose you. And the thought of it happening in such a... a _stupid_ way...”

“I won’t take a risk like that again,” he promised her, leaning in to nuzzle gently against her face again.

“Don’t promise me that. You can’t be sure of it. Just...” her hands rested against his chest for a moment, before clinging to his lapels once more. “Just promise you won’t take another risk like that without me by your side,” she whispered, her lips just barely brushing against his.

“I promise,” he said, recognizing in her sudden sharp look that she knew that he didn’t mean a word of it. But she didn’t stop him as he kissed her again, her hands still wrapped around the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. She didn’t stop him as he slowly undressed her, discarding her prim little suit and that horrible turtleneck of hers on the ground, didn’t stop him when he knelt before her and put his mouth to her cunt, teasing her with tongue and fingers until it had gone beyond her not stopping him to her begging him to fuck her.

He got to his feet at that, shrugging roughly out of his jacket, unbuttoning trousers that had been constricting him, shoving them roughly down his hips in his haste to be inside her. He suspected that she would have bruises later where his fingertips had dug into her hips as he pulled her closer to the edge of his desk, but right now all he could think was that he needed this woman with a desperation that verged on madness, and that as long as she was willing to give herself to him once more...

It was hot and fast and desperate, the sort of sex meant to relieve tensions and say “I’m here. I’m safe,” in the wake of a disaster.

The fact that the only disasters here were of their own making did not change that fact in the least.


End file.
